


Blue with Frenzy

by Ria_Trevelyan



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, Kink Meme, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Sex Pollen, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4063999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ria_Trevelyan/pseuds/Ria_Trevelyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5k words of shameless sex-pollen goodness. </p><p>In which: Solas discovers an artifact in an elven ruin that compels him to do naughty things to our dear Inquisitor Trevelyan, both parties are conflicted about it, and the angst and smut are abundant. </p><p><3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue with Frenzy

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for a prompt on the kink meme found here:
> 
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14591.html?thread=55048447#t55048447
> 
> Good ole sex-pollen goodness. I've always loved reading these fics myself (usually in the Batman fandom) and writing one was genuinely a blast. 
> 
> Hope other people enjoy my contribution to this trope. <3

_Clunk_

Well, shit -- and here Evelyn had been hoping to impress Solas by figuring this out all by herself. But she was out of ideas. That trick with the veilfire torches had been her last hope. Other than that she’d tried all the levers she could find in all the combinations, inspected every statue for hidden switches, flung random spells at the walls in hope of setting something off. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Okay, time to admit defeat. It would probably be getting dark by now and as much as she would love to spend all night down here, she still had an Inquisition to run. Staying up all night hunting for ancient artifacts does not a responsible leader make. 

Well, maybe just a little bit longer.

“Solas! Can you come take a look at this please, I could really use a second opinion.”

Maybe he will see something she hasn’t, if he is done admiring the remarkably intact vault. It had all looked like junk to her: chipped vases, dusty amulets, small carvings of what she assumed to be elven gods. Who knows, maybe some of it was valuable, or had some magic left. If anyone would know it would be him.

Although…

“Solas?”

Why wasn’t he answering?

They’d sent Sera and Cassandra back up to camp almost an hour ago. Really, there was no reason to force them to wait around while she and Solas tried to puzzle out the mechanisms stopping them from progressing further into the ruins. 

Really, he should have come out on his own already. Eve had just been too caught up in her own mental struggles to notice it. What if he had sprung some sort of magical trap and gotten hurt, Eve would never forgive herself if she had been pissing about just a few rooms away while he lay dying. 

She takes the hallway at a brisk walk, feeling ridiculous with every step. He’s probably just focused; or maybe these walls are simply thicker than she first thought. 

Relief and annoyance shoot through her in equal measure when she rounds the corner and finds him just….standing there. Back to her, staring at a faintly glowing pendant he has cupped in his hand.

“Hello? Solas? Are you alright, falon?” Evelyn hesitates a bit on the elven word, even though he has given her permission to use it. It feel clumsy on her lips, out of place; but it gets her a reaction. Finally. Though not a very good one.

His whole body jerks, and the amulet falls from his fingers, clattering noisily to the floor. For a moment it fills the small room with a flash of blue light, and when it fades Solas is facing her. Something about it sets her on edge, he’s holding himself strangely. Differently than normal, his head is tilted to the side, his eyes…

They are glinting softly with the same blue as that amulet. He is under a spell. 

_Shit._ Think Evelyn. You can fix this. 

He takes one step towards her and Evelyn's emotions could hardly be more conflicted if they tried. 

Should she run? She has no idea the nature of this enchantment. It could be nothing more complex than a sort of magical poison, just a spell to put him in a daze. Or it could be an ancient mind control spell that will tell him to murder everyone in sight. 

Still, he could fry her where she stands with one of his lightning spells, and he doesn’t. So Eve is willing to bet...well, her life, that that isn’t his goal. 

Another step. He stumbles, shakes his head as if clearing a fog. Looks at her with wide, frightened eyes. Suddenly so much more alert. Runs a shaking hand over his face. 

“Inquisitor, Evelyn, you must get away from here. From me.” His voice sounds unsteady, as if each word is hard to force out. “Go, put up a barrier behind you and run. Get the Seeker, she can dispel this.”

Despite his warning, despite the urgency in his tone, she hesitates. Watches the sweat bead on his brow and is afraid to leave him. She is frozen with inaction until he snaps, barks out an impatient, “Now!”

 _Then_ she runs, turns and bolts from the room. Barriers have never been her forte, but she trusts Solas, even in this state, and follows his instructions to the letter.Though she hears no pursuing footsteps even as she is nearing the main chamber, she does not slow down or look back.

Perhaps she should have.

Without warning there is a rush of cold and Evelyn is spun around. It happens quickly, but not violently. Hands grip her shoulders, press her back against damp stone with force, but there is no pain. Whatever is going on, whatever that amulet is trying to compel Solas to do…. Evelyn does not think he wants to hurt her.

Especially because…

He just holds her there now, rests his forehead on her chest and breathes deeply. Fingers spasming almost rhythmically where they dig into the skin of her arms.

“It’s going to be alright Solas.” 

The laugh he breaths out in response sends a chill up Eve’s spine with how humorless and defeated it is. 

“No, falon, I do not think it will be.” 

His hands are warm where they slide down her arms, his lips seem to burn a trail against her skin as he moves to nestle in against her pulse, the warmth of his body pressing closer to her own. Evelyn can’t help her own response to the attention. Despite their increasingly severe situation the friction sends a thrill through her. How many times has she imagined him touching her with such sweetness, such intimacy? 

But it is wrong. Twisted.

This is only happening because of some fucked up charm. Solas doesn’t _want_ this. 

If this is headed in the direction that Evelyn thinks it is, then the easiest way to handle him would be to let him have his way and escape when he is sated and vulnerable. Except that seems too close to rape, just taking what _she_ wants with no regard for what he would choose in his right state of mind.

No, she can’t let it happen that way. 

_Maker_ , this would be so much easier if she knew how to cast a static cage or freeze him in place. A paralysis glyph would take too long to cast, he would see it coming a mile away. Her only real chance is a mind blast, but that won’t delay him for long. Or maybe she could -- 

_Teeth._

As if he can hear her scheming thoughts Solas nips sharply at her neck, surging his own mana up against her own in a clash, draining them both in one swoop, as effective as any templar smite.

“You bastard…” Evelyn gasps. Well, they’re both thoroughly screwed now. He has damned them both to this, to letting whatever this spell intends run it’s inevitable course.

He will have her now, she will love it and hate herself for it, and then he will wake from his trance and hate her for failing to stop him.

Oh goody. 

_Tongue._ Gentle and soothing where he’d bit her before, it feels almost like an apology. Which…

“Forgive me,” he murmurs against her skin.

...It obviously is

“I cannot fight it any longer.”

His hands, on her waist now, pushing agitatedly at the hem of her tunic. Thumbs pressing into her skin, rubbing in unsteady circles, dipping into the indents of her hipbones .

“I do not think this will be gentle. Evelyn...I am so sorry.”

With her arms no longer pinned at her sides she _could_ attempt to fight him off. But she doesn’t even try, resistance at this point would only upset him. He will torture himself enough over this, Evelyn does not need to make the experience any more unpleasant for either of them.. 

Instead she rubs a palm up and down the line of his back, a soothing gesture. Left hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, fingernails dragging lightly against the sensitive skin of his scalp. “It’s not your fault.” she whispers, fighting the instinctive urge to tense up as his fingers climb steadily beneath the fabric of her clothes until he is teasing the underside of her breasts. His restraint is admirable, Evelyn has no delusions that she would do half as well under such compulsion. Though his whole body is beginning to tremble with the effort. 

“Just let it _go_ Solas, I am sure it won’t be all that bad, I might even enjoy it.” Might even….ha! Evelyn will be replaying these moments in her fantasies for years to come. 

The shudder that runs through him in response to her words is so violent Evelyn is afraid for a moment that something has gone wrong, that his determined resistance to this volatile magic has made him ill somehow -- but then he pulls back, looks her over with eyes lit fierce with that eerie blue and a no-longer-so-tightly-contained hunger on his face. 

His hands have reached her breasts now, though the fabric of her breast band is wrapped too tightly for him to gain proper access to the supple flesh there. Evelyn can feel his fingers scrambling madly around the edges, eager for entry, pulling roughly at the fabric as if to tear it from her body. Nevermind that he has yet to even remove her shirt. 

Okay, first things first then. She needs to distract him and get them both undressed before he _does_ actually hurt her. 

Of course, Evelyn can handle a bit of fabric burn if it comes to that. But she has a feeling that Solas will be less forgiving of himself if she ends up needing actual _healing_ when everything's said and done. So, best to keep bruising and the rending of garments to the absolute minimum, yea?

“Solas.” His eyes flicker up to hers momentarily at his name, hands stilling against her chest. Good, she has his attention, now...“Kiss me.” 

It feels so surreal to say aloud, even more so to have him actually _obey_ her. And so eagerly, at that. His mouth descends upon hers with enough force to make her teeth ache, and Solas wastes no time before delving in to taste her.

 _Maker…_ Evelyn wishes more than anything she could just give in and enjoy this, savor the sensation of his lips on hers while it lasts, but this isn’t about her or her selfish pleasure. She needs to get them both naked, now. 

His outer vest and furs, her leather enchanters coat, all extraneous pouches and belts -- all easily dealt with. Then she goes for her own tunic, and in the half a second where their lips are parted his focus realigns itself. Go figure. 

By the time Evelyn pulls the fabric over her head Solas has already dropped to his knees, and before she can drop her tunic to the floor and free her hands to assist he has torn open the fastening of her pants with a snarl. 

Well, those won’t be wearable again anytime soon. He looks well on his way to shredding the fabric of her smallclothes as well until Evelyn reaches out to stroke her fingers along the shell of his ear. _Damn._

He’ll probably be pissed at her for this later, she thinks, but at least it works well to sooth him. Though for a non-elf to touch elven ears like this is more than a bit of a cultural taboo. Still, watching the way it makes him gasp and lean into her sends a fresh wave of heat between her legs. 

Evelyn kicks her smalls down her legs quickly, fighting back a fresh wave of embarrassment when she is bare before him. His face resting against her thigh, breath coming in quick, hot bursts against the sensitive skin there as she continues to massage the delicate skin of his ear. He is so close to her center now, Evelyn _knows_ that he had meant to taste her. Andraste’s tits, she is almost tempted to _let_ him…

If only there was a way to justify that indulgence to herself. 

No...no, she _can’t._

So she shoves back on his shoulders instead, intending to push him back onto his thighs so she can straddle him -- but he doesn’t go easy.  
Or at all.

It would seem Solas is done following her lead for now. _Shit._

Evelyn presses against him once more, harder this time, more insistently. Bad move. He snarls again; swats her hands away angrily, yanks her left knee over his shoulder, dives in between her legs and...

Solas wastes no time in parting her folds with his tongue, lapping at her greedily but without hurry. His every motion somehow meticulous and sloppy all at once; leaving no inch of her center unexplored before slipping inside. Her inner walls clenching desperately around the intrusion, though it is not enough to make her do anything than ache for the other parts of him even more keenly. 

And _Maker_ , the noises. Evelyn has never done this outside the circle, where silence and secrecy was always key. She hadn’t known it could be so...noisy, and despite the fact that there is no one but some dusty statues around to hear Evelyn can feel her cheeks heat impressively as he closes his lips around her swollen clit and slurps obscenely. 

The moan she lets loose then echos crudely off the high stone ceilings, and her hands scramble to find purchase on the smooth skin of his head, the temptation to fondle his ears again almost overwhelming. What _would_ it feel like to have the vibrations of his moans ringing against her clit -- too good, if Evelyn is any judge. 

Far too late does she realize his hands are unaccounted for, thighs trembling with her quickly approaching orgasm as his fingers enter her without preamble; pressing mercilessly against the front of her walls. Finding her sweet spot in one try, with no searching or fumbling. His tongue flicking out a merciless rhythm against her clit. Never in a thousand fantasies had Evelyn imagined him such a learned lover, yet it is hardly an unpleasant surprise. 

“Solas!” 

Evelyn feels his lips curl into a smile against her center, teeth scraping against her most sensitive parts; it is an unfamiliar and sharp sort of pleasure that sends her screaming over the edge, nails scraping angry red lines along his bare scalp -- right before he drops her immediately.

She stumbles, legs still unprepared for the full weight of her so shortly after such a powerful orgasm, and she collapses somewhat gracelessly to the floor, eyes coming to rest on a very wide-eyed, very stricken looking Solas. Honestly, she could almost laugh at how obviously he is trying _not_ to look at her nakedness while his lips are still shiny and slick with her juices. The tips of his ears are starting to practically _glow_ with...what, embarrassment, shame?

He’s snapped out of his trance, for the time being at least. The stiff, awkward lines of his body an abrupt change from his almost fluid, animalistic movements a moment ago. The stiff line of his erection clearly visible through his leggings the only thing unchanged.

“Are you alright?” she can’t help but ask. Honestly Eve wasn’t expecting him to come back to himself so soon. Somehow she had assumed there was some sort of one orgasm requirement on his end, not that she was any sort of expert in ancient elvhen sex compulsion spells...or anything.

“Am I… am _I_ alright?” he sounds absolutely appalled by the question, and Evelyn has just enough time to be confused before he lets out a pained grunt and presses a hand to his forehead. Eyes flickering blue once more.

Her stomach turns with an even mixture of excitement and nerves. Maybe she’d been right in her original assumptions after all. 

“It’s not over is it?”

“No. No it is not.” Evelyn hates how _sorry_ he sounds. Like this is some great trial for her, like she didn’t just have one of the best (and fastest) orgasms of her entire life.

His thigh twitches violently when she places a gentle hand there and Solas eyes the intruding digits warily. But he doesn’t object, and since there is no telling how long his calm will last…

Eve scoots her body closer to his on the dusty stone floor, rubbing circles with the thumb near his groin and watching with hungry eyes as his cock jumps at the small attention.

Solas makes an abortive noise in his throat, though it is anyones guess whether it is more protestation or moan. 

“We should get these clothes off of you peacefully while we still can.” she offers, trying to sound rational and not like she’s hungry to see every last bare inch of him. It’s not like it isn’t a reasonable suggestion. Evelyn just wishes it was coming from a place of purely friendly concern.  
“Of course.” he answers, and the solemn tone of his voice and the curt nod of his head force Evelyn to cough in order to cover the hysterical giggle the bubbles up in her throat. 

Solas follows her suggestion though, pulling his tunic up and over his head in two jerky movements that are about as seductive as a chantry brother. Though Evelyn still can’t help but discreetly oogle the newly exposed lines of his chest as he uses the discarded material to wipe his chin. 

It makes Evelyn think about kissing him again, makes her wonder if she would still be able to taste herself on his tongue. Wonder how much of it he remembers, if he is aware even now of the foreign flavor of her. She is unsure how much of his mind is mastered by the spell, could he hear her moaning his name? It would be nice to know for sure. If he is too far gone for the finer details to stick then it would be almost cathartic to confess her feelings to him while he is like this, to tell him how much she wants him out loud just once and have him respond with enthusiasm. Even if that enthusiasm is false. 

Too bad she can’t risk it. 

Instead she busies herself with loosening her breast band, removing the last scraps of clothing from her body. A fresh wave of arousal washing over her when she looks up to find Solas watching her under heavy lidded _grey_ eyes as she bares her breasts to him -- though he looks away and flushes when caught, quickly returning his attention to unravelling his leg wraps. 

Finally only his leggings remain. 

With so much of his flesh bared to her it is truly hard not to oogle, not to touch. She should really initiate something, though it feels too forward now that she’s had a moment for her ardor to cool. It will help later though, he will feel less responsible if she makes at least some of the advances. 

Before Eve has a chance to lose her nerve she pulls his hand up to her chest, tangling her fingers with his as she guides him to cup her breast, nipple pebbling eagerly at his touch. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth when she pushes his thumb over the sensitive bud, giving him a little moan of encouragement when he repeats the motion on his own. 

She whispers something, mindless reassurance as he leans forward to capture the other peak in between his lips. 

“Yes, just like that.” she murmurs, holding his head to her greedily as she lowers her weight to rut again the ridge of his cock, grinding her clit shamelessly against the delicious length of him. Moaning her approval loudly when he begins to lift his hips to meet her. Evelyn could easily get off again like this, though she hasn’t since she was a teenager, mindlessly groping the other apprentices against whatever flat surface the Templar’s happened to leave unattended for 5 minutes. 

He bucks her off without warning, a growl the only alert she gets that he probably isn’t really in control anymore before she is thrown backwards onto the stone floor and pounced upon. The first instinct she has is to reach for his ears again, it placated him so well last time and she only needs to calm him long enough to get on top --- but he is apparently just as quick a learner now as always, and the moment she makes her move his hands are there, strong and firm and pinning her forearms to the fucking floor. 

It makes Eve panic a little, being pinned, and her first reaction is to flail beneath him, try to throw him off. It’s stupid, she knows it will only make things worse later, and she doesn’t even really _want_ to fight him off. It’s just instinct. In response he bites her, sinks his teeth deep into the soft flesh of her left breast and grinds his hips down against hers so hard it almost feels like punishment. 

Almost.

Still, he will have to _eventually_ release her if he ever wants to get his leggings off. If he isn’t too far gone to realize that he _needs_ to get his leggings off. As it is now Solas seems more than satisfied to just rub himself against her, though Evelyn would be lying if she said the friction wasn’t sinful. The tip of him catching against her clit for a hard shock of pleasure with each rough thrust. 

But it’s not enough. Not enough to end this, and he is only becoming more crazed and frustrated the longer he makes no progress. So it would seem once again Evelyn must be the arbiter of their sexual destiny.

It’s definitely not her most graceful move ever, but after a few fumbling and flailing tries she manages to hook a toe into the waist of his leggings and pull them down over his hips. Solas doesn’t even pause in his attentions to her, his teeth worrying her right nipple now, his next rough thrust sliding him along her dripping slit and Evelyn can feel herself clenching anxiously around nothing as she waits for him to thrust at the right angle to fill her. 

She knows it won’t be gentle but Eve _wants_ it that way. Wants him to leave her raw and aching so that she can remember this, so that she can still feel him present inside her for _days_ after this is over. Once Solas has all but banished these memories from his mind. Evelyn will still have marks. 

_His_ marks.

Three more thrusts. That’s how many it takes before he finally fills her. Three more times he slides along her and her breath catches, three more times she cants her hips up and whimpers for want of him. Then…

In. The stretch of her inner muscles to accommodate him just on the wrong side of sweet. Sharp pain makes her call his name in warning and his head snap up from her chest.  
Then his eyes meet hers.  
And Evelyn watches as the blue light fades, as he comes back to himself while sheathed inside her; his expression contorting from carnal victory to agonized pleasure. Jaw clenching as his eyes rake over their intertwined bodies, breathing in shakily through his nose. 

He stills inside, soft, shallow thrusts to let her adjust. Evelyn doesn’t even realize her arms are free until one of his hands comes up to cup her jaw, angling her chin for a soft kiss. His other hand cupping and lifting her thigh to get a better angle before filling her completely one more. 

The ache is still there, her walls bruised from his rough entrance earlier, but is a minor thing. Insignificant in the face of his gentleness now. 

Evelyn rolls her hips against his, an encouraging gesture. Stealing a deeper kiss when his mouth falls open in a small moan of pleasure. It is clear his grip on himself is tenuous at best this time. He was called back by her distress, clinging to his coherence out of stubborn willpower and a desire not to hurt her. Anyone less disciplined would have been nothing but a slavering beast after the start, Eve has little doubt. 

He starts up a rhythm she can only describe as tentative, though whether he is testing his own limits or hers Eve can’t be sure. Either way, holding back like this is doing neither of them any favors.

As it is he’s slipping. A well-timed clench of her inner muscles and a poorly advised whisper of his name has his hips snapping to hers a bit too harshly and his teeth pinching her bottom lip. 

It takes Eve a while to realize it, over her own building orgasm and the sound of their rising pleasure, but there is something else growing between them. Something decidedly magical in nature, despite the fact that both she and Solas are still almost entirely drained of mana. The spell, whatever enchantment the amulet has weaved, it is coming to a head. 

Does Solas notice, or…

 _“Ah!”_ It feels as though a jolt of candied lightning has struck through her when he closes his lips around the lobe of her ear, worrying it softly with his teeth. No one has ever gone for her ears before, but he is used to lying with elves no doubt, and though human ears are not quite that sensitive -- it still makes her writhe, the small sensations of his lips making her clit ache for renewed attention. 

It also makes her moan his name once more, hands scrambling for something stable to clasp, fighting the temptation to claw at him, to beg him to move faster to thrust harder. Instead she simply traces her fingers over the straining muscles in his back, scraping her fingernails along the curve of his arse as he thrusts into her with renewed vigor. His limbs trembling with cracking restraint. 

No, he definitely doesn’t notice. Whatever presence of mind he still possesses is more than likely...otherwise occupied. 

Honestly, she should warn him. But he is practically _chanting_ into her ear now, broken, whispered phrases in elvish that of course Evelyn can’t understand but somehow just _sound_ filthy; their sweaty bodies slapping together loudly with his increasing pace. Besides, the way he has begun grinding his hips to hers with each thrust, a practiced move to stimulate her clit, is working more than well enough to distract her from her own concerns.

It is making Evelyn practically incoherent with pleasure. Mindless enough that she can do little but cling to him and call out a wordless warning that is almost entirely swallowed up by a throaty gasp when the magic makes itself properly known. Blue energy sparking along their bodies, wrapping around their limbs like an embrace. The effect is frightening, even though the last thing it does is _hurt_. 

A steady glow builds up around around their bodies and Evelyn can tell Solas is close by the way his thrusts have begun to lose their cadence, his movements much more about urgency and need than about any sort of tempo or technique. 

Words of love and desire gather on her tongue as her pleasure nears it’s breaking point, but Eve would rather die than let them escape. Though it feels almost painful not to confess them somehow, heart full to bursting with affection she cannot put voice to. 

Evelyn comes biting her lips almost to bleeding to avoid those three damning syllables. Orgasm crashing over her in heady waves of pleasure, inner muscles clenching around the length of him, milking his last few thrusts for every drop of satisfaction they’re worth. Attempting to memorize the sound of the moan he makes as he empties within her, the feeling of his cock twitching and the musky smell of their sex. 

The room fills with a flash of blue light as he comes and the enchantment leaves him at last. And Evelyn tightens her grip around his shoulders reflexively in response, as if there is someway she can keep him like this just a little longer.

But the light fades, and it is all over too soon. Solas pulling away from her almost immediately, eyes looking at a point just past her ear. He will not meet her gaze. Though one shaky hand does come up to brush a sweaty strand of hair from her brow. 

“Evelyn, I…” He starts, but his voice falters, eyes squeezing shut as he gives a small shake of his head. Pulling back off of her to reach for his discarded clothing immediately. 

Like a besotted idiot she follows him, meaning to give comfort, but the movement of her stomach muscles forces her to wince. Perhaps she is more injured than she previously thought, and looking down at herself that would certainly seem to be the case. Already there are dark spots forming all along her body, bruises in the shape of his fingers and his teeth.

 _Maker_ , no wonder he cannot bear to look at her. Although….

His eyes are on her now, hand outstretched, holding a scrap of cloth from his pack. Eve flushes when she catches his meaning, snatching the offered fabric to clean the spill of his spend from between her legs. Well, now at least her humiliation is complete. 

They dress together, in tense silence. Evelyn trying desperately to think of words of comfort that don’t ring hollow or give away her true feelings for him. 

“What will you tell the others?” He finally asks, when they are all but dressed and Eve is fiddling with the broken clasps of her trousers trying to get them to stay up. 

“I see no reason to tell them anything at all.” she mumbles, not knowing what he honestly expected her to say. Did he think she would give a full report to her advisors at the war table? That she would run screaming to the Seeker for protection the very moment he was no longer pawing at her? “This changes _nothing_ Solas. You are my friend. I do not blame you for what happened here. You must believe that.”

He shakes his head again, as though she is speaking nonsense, but walks over to her in two quick strides to tie one of his belts around her waist, securing her trousers; then turns towards the stairs. 

And that’s it. 

That’s _it._

He just turns tail and leaves Evelyn standing there in the spot where just moments ago he was inside her. The spot that still smells of their coupling. 

Already it feels as if it was just something she dreamed up, some delusion of her passion addled mind. Eve need something…. _something_ to remind her that this was real. That this actually _happened_. 

She is halfway back down the hallway to the vault before she even realizes what she intends. The amulet. It sits there, it’s surface now cracked, it’s stone a dull blue color. 

Touching it may be foolhardy. After all, there is no guarantee it had only one charge of magic within. But it is something, an undeniable reminder that this was real. It is a tangible bauble to clutch in her hands at night while she revisits these memories. 

A souvenir, if you will. 

Eve probes feebly at it with the scraps of mana she has managed to regenerate. No reaction. So she scoops it up delicately into her palm, regarding it’s now dull surface fondly before slipping it into the folds of her robe. 

Then, a bit reluctantly, she turns back towards the main corridor and drags her feet all the way back to the Inquisition camp.

\----------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, that's all for now.
> 
> I am working on a little wrap up for this, about what comes after, which I will be posting on the kink meme as it is written. But for now I want to get back to working on the second part of Catharsis -- and I want to do the fill where Trevelyan finds out she has elven blood also. **And** I want to play the patch 8 beta. 
> 
> So...ya. I got shit to do. Here's hoping my health cooperates.


End file.
